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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812656">Secondhand</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewkura/pseuds/mewkura'>mewkura</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dub names, Gen, Kaiba Seto-centric, Smoking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 17:20:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>858</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27812656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mewkura/pseuds/mewkura</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Yu-Gi-Oh DM | Pre-DSOD | Seto and Joey have a mutual understanding that they'll never understand each other. Yet, the company is comfortable.</p><p>Until Seto catches secondhand sympathy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler &amp; Kaiba Seto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Yu-Gi-Oh! It's Time to G-G-G-Gift! [Mini-Exchange]</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Secondhand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/d1m1tr33/gifts">d1m1tr33</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! I hope you enjoy this fic! This is my first time participating in an event like this and I really liked writing for this prompt. I hope it's not too far removed from what you asked for;;</p><p>I really enjoyed writing the dialogue for this. I tend to like writing things to be a little open-ended, so I hope it's not too vague or anything. Anyway, thanks so much for this prompt!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The long drag of a cigarette is never as romantic as the movies insist. Instead of an ashy kiss, all Seto feels is the devil’s hand squeezing his lungs. Apt, as he watches a fiery sunset over the pier.</p><p> </p><p>“These are shit quality cigs, Wheeler. The taste of poor in these is palpable.”</p><p> </p><p>Wheeler clicks his tongue. “Y’know, usually when you ask for a cigarette, the next thing you do is say thank you.”</p><p> </p><p>“I’m afraid that’s not in my vocabulary,” Seto retorts, coughing as he adjusts to the taste.</p><p> </p><p>“Then, bring your own next time, rich boy.”</p><p> </p><p>“Nah, I like watching you suffer.” Seto turns his face when Wheeler almost catches a glimpse of a smile.</p><p> </p><p>Seto doesn’t normally smoke. He can’t do it in his office, because Mokuba is often there. And god knows how long Seto spends in his office. And only god knows how he got here, in casual clothes and talking to the person he loathed the most about a year ago.</p><p> </p><p>It had become an unconventional ritual, coming to the docks every Saturday to talk to Wheeler for hours about nothing and everything. Wheeler would pretend to understand Seto’s rambling about stock shares and Seto would pretend to care about Wheeler's mundane school life. The nonchalance was mutual. It was just understood that this was the dynamic between them now. Seto would never care to admit it, but on some evenings, while watching the red of the sky disappear into the night, Seto almost misses the heated tension of their arguments. Almost.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess I never asked. Do Yugi and the rest of your friends know you smoke?” Seto says, not really caring for the answer. Just filling the space until the moon feels bright enough to return to his office.</p><p> </p><p>Wheeler scrunches his face. “Nah actually… Heh, I guess they’d be pretty mad if they found out though. I never even smoked around Tristan, and we go pretty far back.”</p><p> </p><p>Seto takes a moment to scan his brain for a face to associate to that name. When it finally clicks, he exhales, heat expelling from his lungs and the rancid burn of ash wafts up his nose. <em> God, this is the worst cigarette he’s ever had </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Huh. When’d you start?” Seto isn’t really curious. It’s just more comfortable to keep his mouth moving.</p><p> </p><p>The silence is an unexpected response. Seto glances over; Wheeler fiddles with the pack of cigs between his fingers with an agap mouth, as if determining how to organize his next strain of words. <em> Well, there’s a first for everything </em>, Seto thinks.</p><p> </p><p>“Think it was when I was eleven,” Wheeler eventually mumbles, “Dunno. Most things from that age are kinda a blur, honestly. Other than anything involving my sister.”</p><p> </p><p>Seto barely catches the cigarette as it falls out of his mouth.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Eleven </em>?”</p><p> </p><p>Wheeler winches. “Yeah… I know it’s pretty young.”</p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t mean to...” The words stop on Seto’s tongue. It doesn’t feel right apologizing. At least, not with the air so congested with fog and ash from their lips.</p><p> </p><p>“How about you?” Wheeler asks. “When you’d start?”</p><p> </p><p>Seto reels a bit--Wheeler? Having the social tact to change the topic?--before answering plainly. “About a year ago. Managing a company’s fucking stressful.”</p><p> </p><p>Wheeler laughs; its echo against the sea is hollow. “Can’t imagine. I guess being a trust fund kid ain’t all that.”</p><p> </p><p>“Gozaboro was a shithead, you know he didn’t trust shit to me. Except, maybe dealing with Domino City’s worst businessmen.” Seto scoffs, but can’t help the relief that washes over him as they return to more familiar territory. The wind blows between them, the rancid smell of cheap cigarettes fading.</p><p> </p><p>“Guess we have <em> something </em>in common,” Wheeler mutters.</p><p> </p><p>“And that is?”</p><p> </p><p>“Shitty dads who gave us their worst habits.” Wheeler turns his head to Seto and gives a wry smile. “Your dad made you an asshole and mine gave me a smoking problem.”</p><p> </p><p>The air is suffocating again, catching Seto off guard. He doesn’t realize how tense he is until he gives a shaky exhale. Wheeler looks at him, expectant. Seto knows he’s looking for a sly remark or a curt insult. Seto readies his mouth to say something crass or mundane, anything to bring the conversation back to a comfortable level. It wouldn’t feel right to bridge the gap between their worlds. It’s easier to just keep their dynamic as it is. Without the sympathy. With understanding. Yet… </p><p> </p><p>Seto flicks the cigarette into the ocean, ignoring Wheeler’s disgusted reaction.</p><p> </p><p>“Kudos to that,” Seto relaxes his shoulders and sighs. “But you’re an even bigger asshole.”</p><p> </p><p>“Says the guy who just littered in the ocean.”</p><p> </p><p>“Says the guy supplying the litter.”</p><p> </p><p>“Says the multi-millionaire corporate owner.”</p><p> </p><p>“Says Joey Wheeler.”</p><p> </p><p>“Says Seto Kaiba.”</p><p> </p><p>Seto watches as the last sliver of red passes the horizon and the sky turns a glossy blue. The wind is cool and kisses his hair as it passes.</p><p> </p><p>“You want to talk about your dad...” Seto says, barely a question.</p><p> </p><p>Wheeler follows Seto’s eyes to the horizon. “If you wanna talk about yours.”</p><p> </p><p>Seto breathes in, still feeling the ashes in his chest.</p>
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